


hiraeth

by acheforhim



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Episode: s02e13 Mizumono, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 05:24:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13334382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acheforhim/pseuds/acheforhim
Summary: hiraethnoun1.homesicknessfor a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was.2.an intense form oflongingornostalgia, wistfulness.3.the grief for the lost places of your past.





	hiraeth

**Author's Note:**

> a while ago i saw an alignment chart related to fic titles somewhere and mine was something like “using a rare/elegant-sounding word that’s vaguely related to the plot” and i realized i’d never done that…. smh fake true neutral
> 
> honestly i’d like to say that i was inspired to write something and just happened to know the perfect word to capture its essence but i well and truly ain’t that bitch i just saw this word in a buzzfeed article and then this came out
> 
> hope you like it anyway

_A solid arm around his chest._

_A puff of warm breath ruffling his hair._

_A soft chuckle as he groans and tries to pull away. Warmth coiling in his belly as the grip around him tightens and pulls him back, close enough to have a kiss pressed to his shoulder, to his neck, to his cheek._

_A soft touch to his face as they gaze at each other. A single blissful, perfect moment before they kiss, again and again and again._

Will thought this was one of the more harmless fantasies his brain had gotten stuck on, but now Hannibal’s hand is soft on his cheek, and the brief flash of pain in his eyes might as well have been affection, and he’s not so sure anymore.

Will’s stomach flutters at Hannibal’s touch, and that makes him want to dig his fingers into his belly, reach for his guts and still them, dig them all out, all of the feelings he could not deal with any other way. Will could count on his fingers the times that Hannibal has put his hands on him with such gentle intention, and he hates himself for _having_ fucking counted them, for still wishing he had more to remember, even after prison, after everything.

Because he knows they could work. If only Will wasn’t Will and Hannibal wasn’t Hannibal, they could be perfect.

He has a moment to reflect on this before Hannibal digs the knife in.

He could laugh at the irony—Hannibal spilling his guts so Will doesn’t have to do it himself, and holding him close while he does it—if he wasn’t too busy bleeding out.  

 _You idiot,_ he thinks as he looks up at Hannibal. He could be addressing Hannibal. It’s more likely that he aims it at himself. The pain is sharp, unending, but even that gives way to horror when Abigail takes the final step between her and Hannibal.

They end how they began: Abigail struggling to keep her life, Will unable to save her. He has just found her again, and there she goes, slipping away from him. All because of _him._

 _You_ fucking _idiot._

He tastes her blood on his lips and he wants to weep.

He closes his eyes.

_And they kiss. Again and again and again._

**Author's Note:**

> i challenge all of you to write a little something inspired by your favourite fancy(-dancy)-schmancy word and/or forward this challenge to your favourite authors since i’m a loser that doesn’t know anyone & then link me results in the comments of this (or on tumblr! [i made a tumblr](https://afh-fic.tumblr.com/)! it’s empty but it’s there!) so i could read hannibal fic more and despair about real life less
> 
> xx


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